


Fish Tales

by sabaceanbabe



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Odesta, Pirates, merfolk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 19:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11515980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabaceanbabe/pseuds/sabaceanbabe
Summary: Cap’n, sir! You gotta see this!





	Fish Tales

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLettersFromNoOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLettersFromNoOne/gifts).



> Many moons ago, ChiStudios asked me to write for her the first time Annie and Finnick met. She wanted their origin story for her Pirates of Panem graphic fanfics. Sadly, not long after I finished the fic, her life got in the way of her pirates. I really, _really_ wanted to see her illustrations of Annie and Finnick from this story. Maybe someday... Anyway, I contacted her a few months ago to make sure it was okay for me to post this, given it was written specifically for her for something that might otherwise never see the light of day. She told me to go for it, so now I finally am. Enjoy!

“Sail ho! Cap’n, sir! You gotta see this!” The lookout’s cry was more excited child than sober crewman.

Nicknamed the Peacock by the Capitol press for his extraordinary beauty and flamboyant style, Finnick Odair turned his attention to the boy. Kiwi hung over the railing of what amounted to a huge wooden bucket high over the deck. The boy pointed at something in the distance, a huge grin splitting his face in two.

Finnick rested his fists on his hips. “Should I come up?” His first mate, Johanna Mason, snickered beside him as the boy boggled at the thought of his captain climbing thirty feet above the deck on the rat lines. Finnick turned to Jo and winked.

“No, sir, Cap’n. She’s so shiny you should be able to see her from the bow.” Johanna stifled a snicker at the boy’s earnest reply.

“Shiny?” Finnick glanced again at Johanna. “He can’t be referring to another ship, can he?” A welcome breeze from starboard caught a lock of hair too short to tie back with the rest. It tickled his chin and lower lip before he could tuck it back behind his ear once more.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Jo pointed toward the bow and Finnick laughed, something he did often when he wasn’t playing a more serious role for the Capitol.

“Ha. Right you are.” He turned to leave.

“Keep me posted, Finn.” Johanna was the only person he allowed to call him that. “Anything that has Kiwi so excited has got to be more interesting than this.” She made an expansive gesture that encompassed the vista before them. Crewmen swabbed the deck and spliced lines or repaired nets damaged during the storm that had blown them off course the day before.

Finnick snorted. “That kid is damned unflappable for a twelve-year-old.” Kiwi was one of Finnick’s nephews, his brother’s youngest. Ananias had sent his son to the boy’s privateer uncle to learn how to handle a ship. He didn’t approve of Finnick’s lifestyle, on the water or off, but it was a better choice than whatever one of District 4’s Capitol overseers had in mind. The man had sniffed around for about a week, asking questions about the boy. Nothing good could have come of that interest.

Finnick padded toward the bow, whistling a lilting tune he made up as he went along. Not a one of his crew, male or female, stopped what they were doing as he passed, which hadn’t been the case for weeks after he’d taken over as captain of the _Trident_. An outside observer would never have guessed he was captain, barefoot and dressed as he was in a loose white shirt and gray trousers hacked off below the knees. Out on the open sea, he didn’t stand on ceremony, but no one was foolhardy enough to doubt he was the one in charge on his ship.

The moment he climbed up onto the bow, he spotted her, or at least the shine Kiwi had mentioned. In one smooth motion he pulled his spyglass from his belt, opened it, and raised it to his eye. He took a second to orient; when he did he almost dropped the glass.

There was indeed another ship, one far larger than his _Trident_ and flying the Capitol flag, but she looked ponderous, heavy with cargo. He recognized her – the _Tartarus_ , under the command of Jonadab Mellark, the most pompous ass to have ever sailed the Panemian seas. Finnick couldn’t stand the bastard. But none of that made him lose his grip.

A glass case on the bow of the _Tartarus_ reflected the midday sun in blinding fashion. As the ship rose and fell with the motion of long swells, watery remnants of the storm that had damaged the _Trident_ ’s sails, the brilliant light stuttered like a strobe. It made his eyes water, but Finnick couldn’t look away from the creature trapped within the case.

Her hair was copper and gold and it shone as a flame caught beneath the surface of the sea. Her skin was coppery, too, though not nearly as deep or as metallic a shade. She was naked from the waist up – or more properly, she was simply naked, as the rest of her was the tail of a fish, covered in scales of copper and gold, deep orange and crimson with edges of aquamarine and emerald. While he stared through his spyglass, the Mermaid moved within her glass cage. That glorious hair flowed around her head and shoulders like a cloud. Her eyes, as green as the sea, as green as his own, met Finnick’s and he stood there, transfixed.

He had never seen anything or anyone so beautiful in his life. Or so tragic.

Mellark had caught himself a Mermaid, and he could only be taking her back to the Capitol to sell her to the highest bidder. Whoever bought her would keep her alive as long as possible, draining her of both blood and tears. They would use her blood in drugs and serums that would reduce the effects of age on those Capitolites wealthy enough to afford them, extending their useless lives for decades. Her tears would become the foundation for expensive makeup – though not nearly as expensive as the life-prolonging drugs – that would make Capitolite skin glow. The cosmetics would not only remove all signs of aging, but minor scars and skin imperfections as well.

“Shit,” he muttered. “We can’t just leave her there.”

“Did you say something, Cap’n?”

Finnick glanced at his crewman and then back at the _Tartarus_. A swell sent her bobbing upward and the glass cage flashed.

“Assemble the crew.” He began to rehearse in his head what he could say to convince Jo.

*

Annie Cresta knew fear. She had stared into the jaws of death and fought her way free. She was no stranger to pain. But she had never known fear or pain such as this, floating in the humans’ glass prison, surrounded by two-leggers who stared at her with greed in their eyes. They spoke of her as though she were nothing, a piece of furniture or at best valuable livestock that couldn’t understand their words. The pain grew as time passed. The water that was her life slowly heated with the sun that beat down on the surface world. Worse, the water in which she floated turned gradually to acid. The two-leggers were too stupid to change it, and so it became more and more dirty, burning her every time she moved.

She stared with longing at the dark waves of her ocean home, so near and yet completely out of reach. A shadow moved beside her prison. A large man pounded on the glass and opened a small hole, shoving in a bit of long-dead fish for her to eat. She’d laugh if she didn’t hurt so much. Stupid two-leggers. They considered her such a valuable commodity, and yet they tried to either starve her, offering only offal for a meal, or they would cook her alive in this box, turning her to Mermaid soup. Annie did laugh then, high-pitched and slightly hysterical.

_I should have listened to Grandmother Mags. She told me not to venture into the storm._ Old Mags wasn’t really her grandmother, but she was the oldest and wisest of the Merfolk. She had lived among the two-leggers for a time, had loved one of them enough to forsake the sea, but then her love had died and Mags had returned, bringing with her all the insights she had gained. She had instilled in her people a healthy respect for the humans, but also reaffirmed that it was wise for the Merfolk to keep their distance.

Yes, she should have listened to Mags, but Annie so loved a good storm, the way the water raged, whipped to a frenzy of bubbles and energy by the wind, lit from above by electricity. How was she to know there was a human boat riding at the edge of it? Or that one of those humans would see her playing in the waves? The two-leggers had seen her, though, and tangled her in one of their nets. She glanced down at her right arm, at the purple welt there where the net had cut into her skin. The growing acid content of the water made it sting and throb in time with her heartbeat.

The two-legger pounded on the cage again. When she looked at him, he shouted at her. She couldn’t hear what he said through the glass, but she watched his lips as he told her to eat and damned her for a stupid fish. Anger flushed through her, but she didn’t react to his words. Better that they continue to think she couldn’t understand them. They didn’t need to know that Grandmother Mags, deafened when she lived among the humans, had taught Annie to read lips and to speak with her hands.

Another of the two-leggers joined the first. “You ever had one of ‘em?”

His back toward her, she didn’t see his response, but the newcomer laughed. “Nah. Them fish people sure are pretty, but they’re too expensive for me. Besides, Captain Mellark is giving this one to Snow.”

Annie shuddered, sending ripples of too-warm water splashing up onto the glass; it left behind rivulets and tiny droplets to catch the sunlight. Not wanting to know anything more of the two-leggers’ plans for her, she rolled gracefully, ignoring the pain, until she looked out over the side of the human ship. She closed her eyes, for even with her back toward the two humans that talked about her, she couldn’t escape the sight of the others. They scurried about the deck of their ship repairing the damage wrought by the second storm, the one that had made their leader angry, shouting at his crew and cuffing a few with his fists.

There was no place for her to hide. Even with her eyes closed, she felt them watching her, some with fear, some with lust, all with greed. She moved again, curling into herself, using her long, translucent tail fins to cover as much of herself as she could. But then something changed. Annie opened her eyes with a snap, focusing immediately on a smudge floating on the horizon.

The two-legger ship was not alone. There was another, and if fate was kind to her – she laughed at the notion, but with none of the hysteria from before – she could set the two-leggers against each other and escape them both.

*

“Permission to come aboard!” Finnick sat in the bow of the _Trident_ ’s gig. The smaller boat bobbed on the waves created by the much larger _Tartarus_ ’ mere presence on the water.

“Granted!” A rope ladder bounced once as it unfurled down the hull. Gordon Kamaka, Finnick’s third mate, grabbed the bottom rung and used it to pull the gig in closer, then tied her off before he started to climb. If there was anything problematic up above, Kamaka would take the brunt of it, something Johanna had insisted on – not so much that it be Kamaka as that it not be Finnick. Kamaka didn’t mind; he always loved a good fight.

Once Kamaka was safely aboard the Tartarus, Finnick and the others followed. Mellark and both his first and second mates stood stiffly at attention, watching them. When the last of Finnick’s people set foot on deck, Mellark motioned for a man to pull up the rope ladder.

Captain Jonadab Mellark walked forward two paces, closing less than half the distance toward his guests. It was a small power play that would force Finnick to walk farther to greet him properly. He held out a hand for the visiting captain to shake, but rather than meet him sort of in the middle, Finnick made a big show of straightening his bright yellow and white velvet coat, gold and silver embroidery glinting in the sun. He made sure it hung just so from his broad shoulders and in the process drew all attention to him. He settled his black tricorn at a jaunty angle on his bronze curls, white and yellow plumes draping down his back to the top of his perfectly polished black boots. He took a couple of steps forward, but before he was quite close enough to grasp Mellark’s hand, he “tripped” over an imaginary unevenness in the planks, thus avoiding that particular unpleasantness.

While his uncle Finnick kept everyone else distracted, Kiwi slipped away unnoticed, heading toward the bow and the Mermaid imprisoned there. His job was to make note of guards and defenses in case taking her from Mellark led to a fight. He was also under orders to try to communicate with the Mermaid, given a chance, to let her know that they were on her side. Unlike the other crew Finnick had brought with him, Kiwi wore his everyday clothes and would blend in completely with the men of the _Tartarus_.

“Thank you for the hospitality, Captain Mellark. It is greatly appreciated.” Finnick surveyed what he could see of the deck, the masts, the sails and rigging, noting that the storm that had hit the _Trident_ seemed to have hit the _Tartarus_ much harder. Signs of damage, much of it serious, were everywhere. Turning in a circle, ostensibly still assessing the damage but really assessing Mellark’s men – and they were indeed all men, unlike his own crew – Finnick ended facing Mellark. He plastered his most sincere expression of concern on his face. “She seems to have had a hard time of it recently. The same storm we ran into a couple of days ago?”

“I would imagine so.” Mellark clasped his hands together behind his back. Finnick had a hard time not rolling his eyes. “In spite of the damage, which we are repairing apace, I welcome you aboard the _Tartarus_ , Captain Odair.” He paused ever so slightly before allowing Finnick his captaincy, another subtle slight. _Oh, I am going to enjoy this._ He only wished Jo were here to enjoy it with him, but she was with the _Trident_ , making sure they had a safe and relatively comfortable place to stow their soon-to-be guest.

*

Annie watched the second two-legger ship approach. It was a pretty thing, smaller than the one that held her prisoner, but it looked faster. She couldn’t make out the name painted on her hull, but she recognized the brilliant silver trident painted beside it. Whomever this vessel belonged to, they considered her a hunter.

She watched as the humans communicated with flashing lights between the two ships, and she tried to hold herself as still as she could to minimize the burn of the water on her skin and scales. There was only so much she could do to anchor herself in place in her smooth-sided box. When nothing else happened, she allowed herself to drowse.

A commotion amidships woke Annie some time later. Turning about, ignoring the sting of the water, she observed the group of two-leggers from the other ship as they boarded this one on which she was a prisoner. When the man with the yellow coat and bronze hair boarded, she couldn’t look away. It was he whom she had felt watching her earlier that day, she was sure of it. She watched him dissemble, careful not to come into physical contact with the two-legger who ruled this ship, the one she would kill, if he gave her the chance. And oh, how she wanted that chance!

With a sigh, Annie turned once more to the sea. She was tired of watching, always watching, but what else could she do, trapped as she was? A wave of longing for the cool, clean water between the two ships struck her so hard she gasped, and then she choked on the dirty water in which she floated. If only she could somehow use the second two-legger ship against the first…

Spinning in her prison, her gaze fell on a young two-legger. The boy stared at her, his green eyes wide with wonder and a touch of fear before he backed quickly into the shadows. She had never seen this young human before. She was sure he wasn’t one of her captors, just as she was sure he wasn’t supposed to be so close to her glass prison. The creature that ruled this ship made sure he was the only one who came near for anything other than feeding time, which had already come and gone for this day. So why was this youngling here?

*

Mellark gave Finnick and his crew a quick and superficial tour of the ship, one that demonstrated how much larger and more heavily armed she was than the _Trident_ but did not include the Mermaid in the box on the bow. The dinner that followed was awkward in conversation but excellent as far as food was concerned. Finnick sat to Mellark’s left, but the rest of those who came aboard with him were much farther down the table, no matter what their rank. He couldn’t decide which option he looked forward to more – taking the Mermaid from Mellark by force or walking away with her right out from under the man’s nose. Either way, once she was safely off Mellark’s ship, he and Johanna still had to plot a course that would get her back to her people and the _Trident_ back to her own home port. Assuming, of course, she told them where to find her people.

Something brushed against Finnick’s leg, and he glanced at the man to his left. Apparently paying Finnick no attention, he laughed at something the man to _his_ left said, but as Finnick turned back to his last few bites of roasted pork, the laughing man set the palm of his hand firmly on Finnick’s thigh. Before he had the chance to skewer the bastard with his fork, a light voice between them asked, “May I take your plate, Captain?” The man jerked his hand away as if scalded.

The voice belonged to a girl with dark skin and darker eyes who couldn’t be more than twelve, though she was willowy and tall for her age. She stood at Finnick’s elbow, a knowing – and sympathetic – look on her pixieish face and a pitcher of water in her hand.

The man’s face turning bright pink. “Get back to work, boy. I thought I set you to mending nets.” Finnick took the opportunity to shift a little more to his right, putting a few inches of space between them. The girl winked at him, so subtly he almost missed it.

“I am working, sir. Captain Mellark asked me to serve his guests.”

Even though she was dressed as a ship’s boy with her dark hair cropped short, Finnick was sure she was a girl. Then again, what did he know? _Maybe he is a boy._ It was none of his business. Either way, his young rescuer had very politely and very pointedly put the man in his place in such a way that he couldn’t rebuke her – or him – over it, at least not publicly. For that Finnick was grateful.

The man started to say something else, but Finnick interrupted him. “My apologies, but I’m not quite finished with my meal.” He smiled at the child who grinned back at him while the other man, with an irritated harrumph, turned his back on them both. Finnick almost laughed aloud. Instead he leaned in close and whispered, “What’s your name?”

“Sam, sir.”

“You’re ship’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sam!” They both jumped a little at Mellark’s initial bellow, although Finnick hid it better. He was sitting right beside Finnick, after all. “Stop lollygagging and refill my cup.”

“Thank you for help, Sam.” Finnick received a huge grin in response.

“You’re welcome, sir.” Sam glanced back at the pink-faced man before walking past Finnick to Mellark’s side. “He’s like that with anyone he thinks is pretty.” That last was whispered so that Mellark – hopefully – couldn’t hear.

Finnick turned toward Mellark and waited until Sam left. “Captain Mellark, I couldn’t help but notice that you have a Mermaid on your bow.” Mellark stiffened, his glass raised halfway to his lips. “Do you think that’s wise, given the condition your _Tartarus_ is in?” Fighting back a laugh, Finnick watched as Mellark took a larger than expected sip of wine and had trouble swallowing it.

“What do you mean?” He could hear in the man’s voice that he had taken offense.

“My apologies, Captain. It’s clear you took some severe damage in the recent storm. Merfolk are notoriously territorial” – true enough – “and when they come for one of their own, they can be merciless.” That statement was also quite true. Finnick took a sip of his own wine, making a show of enjoying it before focusing once more on Mellark. “I’ve known them to track a missing family member thousands of miles” – a complete and utter lie – “even if it’s only to take revenge on the ship that stole her.” All other conversation ceased. All eyes were on Finnick and Mellark. “I’d be concerned for the safety of my ship and crew, if the _Trident_ were so badly damaged she couldn’t run.”

Silence reigned for a few breaths more, and then Mellark laughed. “Run. I assure you, Odair, no ship of the Capitol Navy would run.” The rest of his crew laughed as well, though perhaps not as confidently as their captain.

Shrugging, Finnick lifted his glass to study the play of the candlelight through the deep ruby of the wine within. “It’s your funeral.” He swirled the liquid, watching the wine’s fingers stretch and flow down the inside of the glass. “Is this Grenache a ‘73? It truly is excellent.”

Mellark just stared at Finnick until Gordon Kamaka raised his voice enough to be heard from the other end of the room. “Wasn’t it Red Martin’s ship the Merfolk dragged to the bottom back in ‘58, Cap’n?”

“Yes, Gordo, I believe it was.” Finnick turned toward Mellark. “They’d picked up a Mermaid somewhere off the coast of District Eleven and her brothers took exception.” He took a sip of wine and then raised his voice to address Kamaka. “The _Chartreuse_ , was she?”

“Nay, sir, she was the _Chanteuse_.”

“Ah, yes. The _Chanteuse_.” Finnick turned back to Mellark. “Were you transporting the Mermaid to the Capitol?”

“We are transporting it to the Capitol, yes.” Finnick almost grinned at the amount of defensiveness in the man’s tone. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh…” He waved a hand in an airily dismissive gesture. “Just that you’re dead in the water until your repairs are complete.” He kept his face expressionless when the whispers began among Mellark’s officers. If they were starting to doubt Mellark’s confidence, starting to worry about the Merfolk tracking them through the water to rescue one of their own and drag the _Tartarus_ to the bottom of the sea, then half his work was done.

While several low-voiced conversations swirled around the captain’s mess, Finnick leaned toward Mellark. “We could take her back to the Capitol for you.”

“I really don’t think that will be necessary, Odair, but thank you for your… kind offer.” The suspicion and contempt in Mellark’s voice and in his eyes was clear.

Finnick shrugged. “If you change your mind before we depart, Mellark, the offer still stands. My letter of Marque is penned by Snow himself.”

*

Annie opened her eyes to a spectacular sunset. Streaks of red and gold and purple filtered through the gray water that surrounded her, but that wasn’t what woke her. No, she woke because of a thumping vibration that sent ripples of sound through her prison. Spinning, sending water splashing up the walls to speckle the lid of her box, she saw the young two-legger she had seen before. Another wave of vibration flowed through the water when he rapped on the glass. Annie surfaced.

She stared at him impassively, although she was intensely curious as to why he was here. Not much more than a second or two passed and the boy fulfilled her curiosity.

He looked turned around in a circle, pausing three or four times to listen before he finished facing Annie. “I dunno if you can hear me or even speak human, but we’re here to rescue you.” He flinched and scurried into the tiny space between a pair of barrels. That must be where he had hidden before. A moment later a sailor walked past Annie – but not too close – to the bowsprit and leaned out over the railing for a moment, looking for something, before returning the way he came. When the boy emerged a few minutes later, the brilliant sunset had faded to more muted shades, still pretty, but no longer breathtaking.

The boy rapped on her prison again and she turned away from the light. Apparently deciding he’d been too loud, too noticeable before, he had pulled paper and what looked like a stick of charcoal from the pouch at his hip and had written on it a similar message to the one he’d spoken before. He held it up for her to see. _I hope you can read. We are here to rescue you. Nod if you understand._

Annie nodded, and the boy knelt back down on the deck to scribble out something more. _Captain will try to talk to you tonight. Whatever he says about Merfolk, back him up on it._

_Ah, so this must be why the human fry is here._ The second set of two-leggers wanted to take her away from the first. But this small one said “rescue.” That implied they wanted to help her, not hurt her, but who knew what their definition of “help” might be. They could think it would help her to be their captive over the current set of humans.

Another vibration through the water, less focused than the small fry’s knuckles, signaled to Annie that two-leggers approached. She submerged, if only for the illusion that she might be less exposed. A heartbeat later, the young one backed once more into the shadows, shoving his paper and charcoal into his pouch. Annie turned in time to see her captor escort the beautiful man in the yellow coat toward her box. Since they both more or less faced her, she concentrated on their lip movements. It was far easier to concentrate on the man in yellow, who crouched down in front of her, his palms flat against her prison as he looked her in the eyes.

“She certainly is beautiful.” His voice traveled faintly to her through the glass and water.

“Be that as it may, Odair, it’s far more valuable for what it can be used for than how pretty it looks.” She couldn’t hear any of that, of course, but she understood it nonetheless. The man called Odair closed his eyes and Annie saw the muscles in his jaw clench, but then he opened those sea green eyes again, and there was a fire in them that called to her.

He stood, but left one hand on the glass and she knew it was deliberate, a way for her to “hear” his voice by way of the vibration. She remained submerged to take advantage of it.

“Such a pity.”

“It’s not as though it’s human, Odair.” The hand this two-legger Odair held behind his back clenched into a fist at the other’s callous words.

“True enough, Mellark, but I was referring to you and your crew.”

The other man crossed his arms over his chest. “How’s that?”

“As I said before…” Odair paused, shifted his stance, although his hand remained in contact with the glass. Annie saw that more humans had gathered to stare at her as they listened to the two men. “Your ship is dead in the water until you finish your repairs.” He looked down at Annie, who began to flick her tail as if in agitation or anger. “When her people come for you, they’ll drag you to the bottom without a trace.” She saw the others begin to shift, felt the mass movement as it rose through the bottom of her glass prison. “They’re not very forgiving, the Merfolk.” She flicked her tail again, making it smack hard against the glass; though it hurt, she laughed when Mellark and the other two-leggers jumped. But not Odair. He remained steady, and when he looked down at her again, she was almost certain he winked.

That was all the encouragement Annie needed – she wanted to frighten these two-leggers. Allowing her anger free rein, she smacked both hands against the glass. Thrashing her tail, she threw her whole body into it. She set the water to sloshing wildly and began to keen. Her voice rose louder and louder; if they didn’t remove the cover soon, the whole thing would shatter. She hadn’t done it before simply because they’d watched her constantly, at first, and later because she was so far from home she didn’t even know where she was, had no way to get back on her own. She didn’t want to be a slave of the humans, didn’t want to die when they had used her up, but she hadn’t had any other viable choice. Now she did.

The one called Odair backed hastily away from the box. Mellark shouted for her to stop and pulled his sword, but that only made her more defiant – truly angry. The seams of the box began to give way to the power of her voice. A crack appeared in the lid, spreading in broken rivers. The sides split away from each other, allowing water to leak through the damaged seams as the cracks crisscrossed through the glass, two-dimensional images of crystalline coral, until finally the whole thing gave way.

Annie was free.

*

As the glass shattered and the Mermaid flowed in a wave of water toward the starboard side of the bow, Finnick shouted for his men. In the chaos, Kiwi slipped from his hiding place, eyes wide as he tried to run after the Mermaid. She slipped over the side in a flash of fire, the last rays of the setting sun painting her scales with light. Finnick listened for the splash as she entered the water far below but heard nothing. As Kiwi in passing slid on the wet planks, Finnick snagged the boy with an arm around his waist. His brother would kill him if anything happened to his son.

“What now, Cap’n?”

Finnick turned to Kamaka. “Get back to the _Trident_ even if we have to steal one of Mellarks cutters to do it.”

It didn’t come to that. Finnick’s gig was right where they’d left her, secured to the _Tartarus_ ’ hull at the water line. Kamaka unfastened the trailing end of the rope ladder and climbed down first, Finnick and the others following quickly after. All around, men shouted about the Mermaid having called her people’s wrath down on them, shouted that they were doomed, that the Merfolk would destroy them all. Finnick heard Mellark shout something after them as his crew began to row, heading back to the _Trident_ , but he ignored the man, instead scanning the now nearly black water for any sign of the Mermaid.

“I don’t see her anywhere, Uncle Finnick.” He looked over at Kiwi, who was apparently doing the same thing.

“Well, if you can’t spot her, then she must have gone under and stayed.” A wave of disappointment flowed through him, but he quashed it. Their purpose here had been to get her away from Mellark, to keep her away from the Capitol that would have destroyed her. He hoped she could make it back to her people on her own, but it was out of his hands.

*

The sea welcomed Annie like a mother, enfolding her in its chill embrace as she sank beneath the surface, letting the cold salt of it wash her clean. She opened her eyes, surrounded by darkness but for the bright spots of curious fish, come to see what she was, if she might be a source either of food or danger. Holding herself steady, ignoring the tiny tickles of mouths and fins brushing against her skin, Annie _listened_. Close by she heard the ponderous whoosh-boom of the ship she’d just escaped. Closer still was the swish-splash of something much smaller but still riding the surface. From much farther away came the rolling whisper of another surface rider she thought must be Odair’s ship.

Odair had treated her as a being with intelligence. He had shown her respect, far more so than he had the one called Mellark. That one had treated her like an animal and with casual disregard for her pain. Wherever here was, she was many leagues from home. No sight or sound or taste of it existed in the water that surrounded her. Where it was a certainty that Mellark’s ship would take her to the two-legger Capitol where she would face slavery and eventually a painful death, Odair’s ship might take her home. That’s what the small fry had implied in his notes.

She couldn’t stay here, but she waited a few minutes more, listening, always listening. When it became apparent the swish-splash headed toward the rolling whisper in the distance, Annie knew what she had to do.

*

“So what the hell happened?” Johanna stood in the middle of the deck, arms akimbo and short hair fluttering in the wind. All around them the crew hurried to set the sails to take maximum advantage of that wind. Once they were underway, it would be impossible for Mellark to overtake them. Finnick himself was a little weirded out by what had happened in the end – he’d heard plenty of Mermaid tales, though he’d never seen or heard anything like what she had done with her voice – but the Mermaid was free.

“That, my friend, is an excellent question.”

“Were you planning on answering it anytime soon?” He couldn’t suppress a grin as he felt the change in the ship’s motion, a smooth forward movement in addition to the gentle up and down as her sails filled.

He held up a finger to Johanna, who rolled her eyes but waited anyway. “Kiwi! Status on the _Tartarus_!” He had sent the boy aloft as soon as they’d gained the _Trident_ ’s deck.

“Still where she was, Cap’n!”

Nodding, Finnick turned toward the wheel and the Trident’s third mate. “Gordo, set her toward the Capitol until we’re well out of sight, and then head for home.” It maybe didn’t matter, but if anyone on Mellark’s ship watched, there was no need to give them any useful information.

“Well?” Johanna prompted.

He walked over to the rail and leaned his forearms on the weathered wood as he looked out over the moonlit waves. He breathed in the splash and the spray that gave him life. Johanna joined him a moment later, shoulder bumping him to remind him that he owed her a story.

“So the short of it is, I don’t know what the hell happened.”

“I told you I should have gone.”

“Ha!” They both laughed at that. “I didn’t mean it like that. Mellark fed us—”

“Did you bring me anything?” Jo interrupted, and it was Finnick’s turn to roll his eyes. Even so, he dug into the left pocket of his yellow coat and pulled out a cloth napkin wrapped around a fruit-filled pastry. He’d swiped it from Mellark’s plate as he’d followed the man out of the cabin to see the Mermaid. Mellark didn’t seem the type to eat much dessert, and the untouched pastry confirmed that assumption. When he handed the bundle to Jo, she threw her head back and laughed in delight, just before she unwrapped it and took a bite.

“After dinner – and a lot of goading on my part – the bastard took us to see the Mermaid.” Finnick didn’t bother to tell Jo that the Mermaid was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen; she’d only tease him about it if she knew. Hell, she’d probably tease him about it anyway. “I’d earlier had Kiwi warn her that we were going to try to help her. When we got there, I mentioned to Mellark how dangerous it was to hold a Mermaid prisoner, her family and all that” – they’d come up with the story before Finnick had headed over to the _Tartarus_ – “and she started to… I don’t know. Keen?” Johanna nodded and gestured for him to continue as she nibbled at her pastry. “Her voice got louder and louder, higher and… angrier, until the seams of that box Mellark held her in split. Sort of exploded, really. She slipped over the side and into the water. We lost sight of her and got out of there as fast as we could.”

“So you lost her?”

Finnick shrugged. “The whole point was just to get her away from Mellark. I just wonder why she waited so long to do what she did, since apparently she could have escaped all along.”

Before he could answer, Kiwi interrupted them. “Man overboard!”

Finnick and Johanna exchanged a startled glance, and his heart began to pound faster as men and women hurried toward the rails. He saw a dark shape cut through the glittering waves below. A moment later a life preserver landed near that shape.

Johanna began to laugh. “I think I might know why.”

A woman’s voice called up from the water. “Captain Odair! My name is Annie Cresta!” The sound of her voice was lilting, almost musical. He saw her then, one graceful hand on the life preserver, red-gold tail flicking and splashing. Her coppery hair faded to a silvery orange under the cold moonlight. “Permission to come aboard!”

Grinning, Finnick didn’t even a glance at Johanna. “Permission granted!”


End file.
